A Rock
by ZamazaWing
Summary: An OC in an AU space-world-like-thing meets up with the gundam guys, who turn her life upside down, inside out, and then reverse it.
1. And so it begins...

Disclaimer: Thanks to everyone I've met over the years, everything, all the TV shows and movies I ever watched. I don't own Gundam Wing, FanFiction.Net, or the candy I'm eating, I just wrote this to get these people out of my head and into someone else's. After all, it's crowded enough in here already.  
  
Rating: PG-13 (Maybe, possibly R later. depends on reviews?)  
  
Summary: This is my first story to be posted on FanFiction.Net but by far not the first one I've written. It's an AU Gundam Wing self insert. Not so sure on my current plot, might change things up a bit, but still looks cool at the moment. This is set in space, the Gundam wing guys (even Treize and Zechs) will be appearing and are mostly main characters. I need lots of feed back! You might even be able to tell me how the story ends! (Just kidding, I have an ending!) BTW I love my sister Wendy who reads more fanfictions then me, which is scary! She's also my only beta-reader.*HINT HINT *  
  
  
  
"Once upon a time, there was a rock. It was a sad and lonely rock, for it had no friends. One day the rock made a bunch of smaller rocks, but they all left the rock." These smaller rocks supposedly spread all across the void, creating the stars and later planets. The First Ones named this new thing the "Universe", the name of course implies that they were the first life forms, and they were. The aforementioned saying supposedly was the truth, how it all started, and the mystery of the universe. But what did I care? Do I look like I'm a rock? Of course not. Back then the Universe was just a 'thing', and I lived, or tried to, in this 'thing'. You know how everyone says "eavesdropping is rude" well it also gives you bad karma, if I'd known this earlier, maybe it wouldn't have all happened.  
  
"So, if this new site has any of the Kerulean Relics, in a few months I'll have my own sector named after myself."  
  
See, normally I didn't get involved with these conversations. People on the Imperialist parole were good for tipping pockets, and repair work, but you never wanted to argue with one, they always had a bodyguard or someone nearby, had I remembered this, and had I had a few less glasses of Ber'ek, I'd probably would have died a rich thief on Telluric Prime. "You keep 'elling 'urself that, 'ou'll be back in 'a few months' as 'oor and as filthy as 'ou are 'ow, 'rag about 'few stories 'n lie about adventures 'ou dreamed up, and then 'ou'll go on 'bout the next dig. 'ou freebirth Imperials 're all the 'ame. All for glory, gold, an' no guts."  
  
"Wha-Who said that?" The scrawny guy whose name I overheard was Racklyn, stood up from his stool at the bar, and looked through the crowd, apparently looking for me.  
  
"I did domr'a'tick." I never looked up from my glass; I knew I'd done it. The guy was armed with a force gun; even I didn't want to mess around with the armed type.  
  
My 'ol buddy, Valus, the barkeep in the Icyblaze, looked at me over the glass he was cleaning with a white towel and whispered, "You sure you want to do this? They'll be all over if you take out the head of one of their digs. Just apologize, or let me do it for you, this doesn't have to-"  
  
"But it does have to." I turned my head causing my long black hair to go over my shoulder and I raised my voice, "These mal'tick come in 'ere, demand 'alf prices, and leave their 'ab for the em'pire to 'ick up. They waltz 'round 'ike they own the da'tick station, and I'm 'ired of 'it."  
  
"You're not tired of anything you stupid bitch, you're so drunk I doubt you could walk straight, and you're a woman. How dare you speak to an Imperial that way, or at all for that matter, scum like you should be burnt in the waste pits!" He was standing less then ten feet from me, and several of his buddies I assumed from the clean uniforms, were backing him up.  
  
"Scum 'ike me?" I turned on my stool so that I was leaning on the bar, with my empty glass in my right hand, and making motions with my left. "Scum 'ike me 's all there 's out 'ere. 'ook 'round, 'ee all 'da scum? That'ss all we 'r, and that's all 'hat's 'ere. We're not in 'our 'lil armada, 'ere jus' scum. 'ight everybody?" On the last part a stood up and looked around, it seems the five Imperials now had the full attention of the entire bar. They were looking around too, and from the way they were, they knew they were screwed.  
  
"Look, just apologize, admit you were wrong, and that we're superior and we'll leave and let it go. No one has to get hurt, be reasonable." He said as he looked nervously around.  
  
"Reason'ble was t-ree 'lasses ago." Now granted, I can be a very mean drunk. In my life I probably got drunk around six-or so times, and I only drank when I had nothing else to do and since I had no more room to bottle it up inside, I bottled it down with an alchohol bottle.  
  
"That's it," he said, pulling his gun, "You're coming with us."  
  
"Like 'ell I'ma not!" I threw the glass at his head, and he shot it, vaporizing it and leaving a shower of sparks from where it had been in midair.  
  
"Sorry Valus!" I yelled as I ran for the door, my actions concealed by the crowd around the clean, white uniformed men. The leader was shouting something after me, but I didn't care, I had an apartment to remember the location of. The last thing I could hear was something along the lines of "I'll show you scum." and a loud crash with some yelling.  
  



	2. Gods I hate Modays...

Disclaimer: Thanks to everyone I've met over the years, everything, all the TV shows and movies I ever watched. I don't own Gundam Wing, FanFiction.Net, or the candy I'm eating, I just wrote this to get these people out of my head and into someone else's. After all, it's crowded enough in here already.  
  
Rating: PG-13 (Maybe, possibly R later. depends on reviews?)  
  
Summary: Second Chapter, if FF.Net will let me post it!  
  
  
  
"The time is now six, thirty four hundred hours. Your alarm is set for five, thirty hundred hours. Please press the cancel alarm button."  
  
At that, I sat straight up in bed. Six hundred hours? Why had I slept in? Then what I recalled of last night hit me. Brawl. Bar. Bad. And I had work to do, work I had to do at precisely seven hundred hours. The realization wasn't all that hit me; the bad breath and headache of last night syndrome also hit me.  
  
"The time is now six, thirty six hundred hours. Your alarm is set for five, thirty hundred hours. Please press the cancel alarm button."  
  
"Alright, alright! What, do you think I've gone deaf?" I growled as I swung out of bed and pressed the "Alarm OFF" button on the other side of the room next to the video screen.  
  
"Good morning Wing! You have three new messages," the monotone computer replied, "would you like these played in order of priority, by sender, by order of time rec-"  
  
"Order of time received." I opened a bottle of aspirin, took three, then opened the shower door and prepared to get into the icy cold water.  
  
"First message," the voice changed to a familiar deep male voice, "Hiya Wing, Vix here. Heard about your little brawl, eh? Couldn't even stick around for 'da end could ya? Anyway, heard you drank enough Ber'ek to drown six Linksabers, so I suppose my point is who died? Or who didn't rather. Anyway, if you need to talk, or anything, I'll be at the shop all night, and I'll start on the repair work of that Clan shuttle without ya, I'll expect you around seven fifteen hundred hours? Message me."  
  
After that the computer responded, "End of first message. Second message."  
  
By now I was nearly done with my uncooperative hair. When you've got spiky black hair that runs down to you butt, it can be a real problem to wash. Not that I'm complaining, I could always cut it.  
  
"Mrs. Zamaza Wing, this is the Federation bank calling about your-"  
  
"End message. Delete current message. Resume message program." I really hate bankers. Always have something for you to sign, or more money you owe them. It's never anything they haven't already sent to you in paper, if those papers aren't what they're calling about. The Federation is the alliance of several very powerful worlds, and they're pretty much buddy- buddy with the Empire, all those Imperialists in the white suits that look like they have "shoot me I'm stupid" on their foreheads are members of the Empire. And I would, but I don't own a gun. I rinsed, got out, and began to comb.  
  
"This is the Truksian-Pryaten-Samien-"  
  
"Skip to the word Empire and resume." I gripped as I began to dress myself in one of my favorite out fits, knee-high black boots, black leather pants, a black silk halter top with a white lotus in front, and my silver collar that came to a triangular point just bellow my collar bone with a bright purple square stone in it.  
  
"Empire. We are informing you that you have five strikes against the Empire," I mimicked the message from we to Empire, it was always the same message anyway, just with a higher number, "all of your rights with the Empire or any of it's business associations have been discontinued. The Federation bank has closed your account-"This was new, they'd reduced my rights before, but they'd never done this, supposedly they never did this unless you had ten strikes, or unless you had five and a major, and unless someone died in that brawl, I was none of the above. "There will be an armed guard sent to receive you from local authorities and transport you to a prison colony within the week." This they never did, that I'm aware of.  
  
"Oh, goodie, I won a vacation!" I said as I organized my work items into a small fabric briefcase that I wore over one shoulder. Some of these items included various repair tools and small circuitry, and my TI-83+ handheld computer. Why a TI-83+? There are only models 80 to 84, and 84 is Empire only. 82 was made before I could repair a simple widget, then 83, then 84. It wasn't until three months ago they made the 83+, well, why not make an 85? Well, my reasoning is that the Empire has an inferiority complex; theirs is that it's more like the 83 then 84 or a new model. Go figure.  
  
"We would also like to inform you that-"  
  
"End message. Delete current message. Return to wakeup program." By now I was ready to go, after grabbing my (of course black and leather) trench coat, and putting on my "briefcase".  
  
"Time is now six fifty six. Your scheduled events today are the following: Repair Clan shuttle main reactor, time seven hundred hours to fifteen hundred hours. Next event: Dinner at The Clade with perspective customers, time sixteen hundred hours to eighteen hundred hours. Pickup parts for the X93-42 cruiser. Have a nice day."  
  
"Yeah, you too." I felt something funny. I turned around and looked at my basically empty apartment. I really owned nothing, but for some reason, it felt like I wasn't going to be back. Not at sixteen hundred hours, not ever. Why? To this day I don't completely understand it myself, it's funny that way. I smiled a little, waved, deactivated the power and left without locking the door. I didn't feel I needed to, I wasn't coming back anyway.  
  
  
  
"So I say, "Oh yeah? Well that's what they get for picking a fight in any outer world station. I mean come-on, this is Orbital 3936." There he was, who would have ever guessed he'd start the rest of my life. Not all that important from what I knew, but boy was I ever in for it. The lesson kids? Never talk to strangers with lots of money and no explanation on why they do. Clan or not, I repaired anything, and normally they didn't assort with "my type". As far as they knew, I was Freebirth, someone of no noble born heritage, or someone with out a family history. In other words, most everybody not in a clan. Clans hated Freebirth, to them we were bellow filth, bellow the very dirt they spit on, why me? Well, keep listening.  
  
The broad shouldered guy couldn't have been more then five-something, but he felt taller to me. Personally, he got on my nerves. Besides, guys look queer with long brown hair, especially in braids. His name was "Number 2" to me; I had to go by numbers. I didn't "deserve" to know their real names. Arrogant aren't they?  
  
"W-something right?" He said turning to me as he talked to my blonde hair partner, Vix, or Vickers as I sometimes called him.  
  
I kept my eyes to the ground, not only was I freebirth, but also a woman, and even I didn't think I could meet their eyes equally. "Wing, sir."  
  
"Right, right. May I ask why you've been lounging about in your rooms while you've left my pal Vix here to do all the dirty work?" One of his three friends sounded like he was going to say something, but thought better of it.  
  
"I apologize sir, I have no explanation for my actions." I tried not to roll my eyes, even if they wouldn't notice. Why did he care? What was the big deal?  
  
"Oh. So you're not the Zamaza that's all over the vid-com? The one at the Icyblaze that incited a brawl, leaving nine dead, four Imperialists and one Federation member?"  
  
What?! And why did he care? That was colony news, not something a Claner would care about. "Yes sir, that was me, but you did mean five Imperialists, correct?"  
  
"No, I meant what I said," he added a chuckle, "the other one is in ICU, he's not expected to make it." I heard a few snickers with this, and I dared to look indirectly up.  
  
"Nice job!" He grinned. I was stunned. Compliment from a Claner? Riiiiight. This is the Ber'ek talking huh? "If there were more of them like you out here in these colonies, the Feds and Imperialists might recruit someone useful or a challenge for once."  
  
Just nod and agree, nod and agree. Vix turned to me, "Remember that "shuttle" I called you about? Turns out it's not a shuttle." He had this wide ear-to-ear grin, and it gave me this creepy feeling.  
  
"It's not something stolen is it?"  
  
One of the braided-haired guys friends looked rather offended at my comment and walked over, "We don't steal."  
  
Upon further investigation, he was almost as cute as the first guy. He had short, messy brown hair and was wearing a black tank top. Actually, looking at them, they were all wearing black. Clanners in all black. black highest soldier rank.  
  
It hit me like a ton of bricks. "A battle."  
  
My word ".ship." Got cut off by the blue eyed guy's hand forcefully covering my mouth.  
  
"Geez Wings, tell the whole cluster why dontcha?" Vix grinned.  
  
I raised my eyebrows in curiosity, and the guy stepped back and released me. "For a job that big. it could take days."  
  
The braided guy relaxed, "So you're cool with this? You're not going to go tell anyone right? This is pretty hush hush."  
  
"Of course not! And lose a chance at one of those. uh, ships?" I grinned almost saying "warship".  
  
Vix laughed and clapped me on the shoulder, "Toldya she'd be cool with it. Best in the sector too."  
  
Me confused. "Cool with what?"  
  
Vix turned to me, "Well, their "shuttle" had a little "accident" and their main reactor is down, they're running on their backup generators. Since their "shuttle" is so top secret, and big, they couldn't bring it in, so we'll have to go there."  
  
Replace the above words shuttle and accident with warship and battle and you'll have the truth. "Two things. Where's there? And I don't think we'd have the parts."  
  
The braided guy answered as Vix opened his mouth to speak, "We have the parts, and where isn't important, we'll take you."  
  
"If you have the parts, why don't you fix it?"  
  
Everyone, including Vix, looked a little taken back by my comment. "Well. It seems kid of funny that you can't fix it yoursel-"  
  
Vix gripped my shoulders and shouted in my face, "Do you WANT to chase them off?"  
  
I gulped. I didn't mean it like that Vix, I just. It's weird that they couldn't fix it on their own, suspicious even.  
  
"No, no I'll do it. Forget what I said." I blushed and walked over to my table with most of my tools on it and put them into my shoulder bag along with the things from my apartment.  
  
When I turned back around I realized they were waiting for me. "Sorry."  
  
"Are you ready?" Vix asked, embarrassed for me.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Ok, follow me." The braided guy walked in front of me and Vix, and the other three followed us. As we headed down the corridor we walked silently. Lots of people gawked at the guys, we rarely had clanners around, especially high-ranking ones.  
  
After about fifteen minutes, we arrived at one of the several thousand docking bays, and several lower-ranking clanners in dark navy-blue uniforms greeted us.  
  
We began walking up the gangplank to the shuttle as one of the guys stopped me. "Can I see your bag?"  
  
"My bag? Why." Vix took it from me and handed it to the guy who dug through it and handed it back to Vix. Vix gripped my arm and hurried me along, the guys had gone ahead of us, and we had to hurry to catch back up.  
  
In a few moments we were in the cockpit and the braided guy jerked his thumb at a couple seats that some of the blue-uniformed guys were standing next to.  
  
I sat next to Vix, and was a little alarmed when the guys behind me tried to blind fold me.  
  
The braided guy smiled as he put on a set of head phones with a mike attached, "Relax. It's just for safety on our end."  
  
I looked at the guys, at the already blind folded Vix, and back to him. "What about safety on MY end?"  
  
He chuckled, "They won't touch you if they know what's good for them."  
  
Oh yes, I feel so secure now. You know I want to be blindfolded, have no clue where I'm going, and with all these men around.  
  
I sighed and leaned back. They blindfolded me, buckled me in, and tied my arms to the arms of the chair.  
  
"Everyone ready?" It was the braided guy, "Ok, requesting launch clearance."  
  
The engines roared to life, and the movement from the shuttle bay was as smooth as silk.  
  
I dozed off, since I was blindfolded I had nothing else to do but nap.  
  



	3. Everything is in a ship like shape

Disclaimer: ^insert standard disclaimer here^ I'm poor.. own nothing.. long live those who DO own G-wing. however Wing herself is mine (MINE!)  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Summary: Wing arrives on the ship, and deals with a slightly OOC Heero (?)  
  
Note: Please review/flame me (yes even flames, I'm that desperate!) half done with chapter four. please review, even if it's not a signed one!  
  
  
  
I woke up to feel something poking me in the shoulder.  
  
"Five more minutes."  
  
I heard a deep chuckle and the poking continued. "Vix stop."  
  
I tried to open my eyes, realized I was blind folded, and that the person was NOT Vix. "Who? Where am I."  
  
"We are here." The guy pulled off my blindfold, and it was the tank top guy.  
  
"Was the poking necessary?"  
  
"Hn." He untied me and offered me my bag. I took it and put it on, looking around I saw no one else in the cockpit. The blast shield on the main window was down, blocking my view of whatever was out there.  
  
Upon seeing my confused state, he offered some information. "We have docked on our ship. You were sleeping."  
  
"Observant aren't we." He was staring at me. "What?"  
  
"Your eyebrows."  
  
What?!? "What? Yeah, so they're forked."  
  
"I like them. This way."  
  
Weirdo. Not that I don't get the "weird eyebrows" thing a lot. He led me out and down the hall way where more clansmen in various shades of blue and green passed us and stared oddly at me.  
  
I studied the ship; it was in great condition. The walls and floors were smoothly polished, and everything was so bright compared to everyone we passed, and the guy in front of me.  
  
After about five minutes, I caught myself staring at his butt. I don't know how it happened, I just was. From then on I studied the ship closer.  
  
"Here." He turned to a door, and looked at me.  
  
What?! I can't open it! "What?"  
  
"Close your eyes."  
  
I sighed, and did as I was asked. Oh, right. Like I'm dumb enough to try to break into the core of a clan ship.  
  
I heard the "whoosh" wound of the door opening, and opened my eyes.  
  
It was big. It is big. No matter what else I see, it is HUGE. The reactor stood in front of me, and I ran past several guards to the guard rail around it. The huge cylinder rose five stories into the air, and two below my feet. It was deactivated, and had large rectangular windows all over it, each easily twice my size. The dark cooling fluid could be seen in the windows, and I could only imagine what it would be like activated.  
  
"HEY! Stop!" Several of the guards I had rushed past came up and grabbed me while I was still looking at it.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Yeah! What do you think you're doing freebirth?"  
  
"Do you know what we do with."  
  
They turned towards the guy that had escorted me here, "Sir! We found this intruder attempting to damage the core."  
  
"Really? Didn't we already do a well enough job of that?" It was the braided guy also.  
  
"But she was."  
  
"Coming to fix it. She's just a bit excited." Number 2 winked at me.  
  
"But sir, she's uh. uh."  
  
My companion filled in the blank, "A woman?"  
  
Then it dawned on me, everyone we passed in the hall, everyone in here, they were all men. ALL of them.  
  
"No women?" I looked at them, lost.  
  
"Absolutely not! They're only good for one thing anyway. Well, maybe two."  
  
I blushed and struggled as the braided guy said, "She's the only one who's able to fix it."  
  
"She's not even a clanner! You're going to let some freebirth onna touch our power core when we could."  
  
He looked determined at the guards. "SHE is going to FIX it. Your complaints are noted. Now if you interfere with her work you will be dealt with accordingly when we get back. Otherwise, take it up with the commander."  
  
"Yes sir!" They snapped to attention, the hurried off.  
  
"Alright." He said turning to me, "Ready to get to work?"  
  
"Where's Vix?" I still felt lost.  
  
"He's on the bridge, there's repair needing to be done everywhere, but you're the only one qualified to do this job."  
  
"Everything is powered down?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Main counsel?"  
  
"Over there." He pointed.  
  
"Passwords?"  
  
"You have authorization."  
  
I nodded and smiled.  
  
"Anything else?"  
  
"No, I should be able to handle my own job." I set my bag on the counsel and pulled out my TI-83+.  
  
They both watched me dig through my bag, and I headed over to the reactor.  
  
They were still watching me. "What is it?"  
  
I looked around they were ALL staring at me. All five floors worth of people were looking at me, some were even gathered around the rails at each floor.  
  
"Don't you want a protective suit or something? The reactor is damaged."  
  
"I'll be fine." I started to crawl over the rail. My first leg over, I heard gasping. "WHAT?"  
  
"Doesn't the radiation bother you?" It seemed these people liked confusing me, but I looked at my handheld. The radiation at the bottom of the reactor and all over it was at lethal levels, and the whole room was saturated with an un-healthy amount.  
  
He continued. "We've all been given shots, but you're. fine."  
  
I blushed and shrugged. "Tough blood I guess."  
  
One of the men nearby said, "She's not even a clanner."  
  
I sighed, "Do you people want to get to work, are you having a good enough look?"  
  
They stayed motionless, "HERE!" I through my digital camera at the two I had already met, the braided guy caught it. "IT'LL LAST LONGER!"  
  
Wow. Now that was PMSy.  
  
I blushed and grumbled as I climbed down. I was over-reacting. People had this reaction a lot. For some reason I was immune to radiation, it's never bothered me. At some levels, where it's hot enough and powerful enough to melt metals, all it does is give me a head and stomach ache. We discovered this around two years ago when I tripped and fell into a tank of water used to cool the reactor of the colony when doing repair work. I floated, dazed for around four hours until they drained it into a backup tank. I wasn't even burned, and I had all my hair. People talk about it to this day.  
  
I flipped open a panel upon reaching the bottom, and discovered all the circuits were fried and fused. There were around thirty-five panels, and I went through all of them, opening them, seen everything fried, then added them to the list. After awhile, my head began to pound and I started to sweat, and I decided to make the two-story trip to the top again.  
  
Once up there, I noticed people on my level staring at me, and I walked over to several of the navy-blue uniformed guys and handed them a disk from my hand held. "I need these parts."  
  
They were coughing. "What?"  
  



End file.
